


unmasked

by trasharama



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dominant Kylo Ren, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teasing, but like, icky smut, smutty mcsmutsmut, super sorry pls forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trasharama/pseuds/trasharama
Summary: She wakes up strapped to a bed, a creature in a mask beside her.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 245





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello if you are not into dark fic and noncon elements, this is NOT the story for u!! pls mind the tags and thank u and ily <3
> 
> find me on twitter @reylobaelo if u can stand me after this fiiiilth
> 
> pt 2 is already mostly written so it shouldn't be TOO long till it's posted!

She wakes up strapped to a bed, a creature in a mask beside her.

It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dropped on her head. She’s shivering, and gasping, and trying to catch her breath despite having been stationary for who even knows how long. The room is bathed in a yellow hue, the blankets are soft beneath her, a window is open, letting in the smell of salt from the ocean.

For all intents and purposes, wherever she is should be…  _ comforting _ .

Comforting if not for the itchy ropes tethering her wrists to the headboard.

“Where am I?” she breathes, looking at the-- _ thing _ before her.

“You’re my guest.” Its voice is manufactured, robotic in nature, hiding what she assumes is a man’s tone.

“Where are the others?”

He cocks his head at her; she can almost hear a smile gracing his lips as he responds: “Do you mean the murderers, traitors and thieves you call friends? You'll be relieved to hear I have no idea.”

“I…”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“Recognize… you?” A gloved finger runs down her arm, and she scrambles against her restraints to get away from it. It’s a slow touch, almost tender, tickling her skin. “ _ Stop _ .”

“You still want to kill me.” He says it like it’s fact.

“That’s what happens when you’re being hunted by a monster,” she spits out, wrenching her arm away, curling it as far into her chest as she can. “You--what do you mean,  _ ‘still’ _ ?”

A low chuckle; his hand retreats, rising to his head. He unclasps the helmet, lifts it up, and drops it to the ground with a jarring thud.

His hair is black, his face angular, his mouth full, his eyes focused.

She stares with parted lips. Her breath stops rising and falling. There’s just no way that it’s-- _ him _ .

“It-- _ can’t be _ \--”

“Mm,” he murmurs. “Tell me about the tech you stole. I think it’s referred to as, what? A droid?”

She doesn’t allow herself time for hesitation. This is what Rey Johnson was trained to do from the get go: deflect.

“He's a BB unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscan vindicator. He’s--”

“It's carrying very precious intel from our tech sector. Somehow, you managed to steal the thing. Managed to hack the information, take it from our grasp. You. Rey Johnson. A mere… scavenger.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s up to you.” She’s about to protest, hackles raised, furious at the situation she’s in, astounded he would call her a  _ scavenger _ of all things. “I need the information you stole. I know you haven’t managed to wire it to whoever you’re working with. I have theories as to who that may be. We have this room however long you decide. Give me what I seek, and no harm will come of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I disagree. You know exactly what I’m threatening.” He’s met with silence, so he lets his lips twitch upwards, and continues lowly, breath blowing at her ear. “You're so lonely... so afraid... at night, desperate to sleep…”

“I don’t understand, I--”

“You’re not the only one who’s been doing some watching.”

The implication has her reeling. She thought she’d been careful, always a step ahead of him. It was her fucking job, to get in, get out, leave no trace. To find out that he’d known the entire time, that he’d turned it around on her?

Suddenly, the room is a lot more frigid.

He looms over her, one knee dipping the bed by her head, sliding his gloves off while he stares. His lips are turned into a smirk, smug and superior, as one hand passes over her neck, tracing her collarbone.

She flinches.

“I saw the one time you pulled my photo out,” he says, fingers pinching the strap of her dress. “I was in a suit, one just like the suit I’m wearing now, no? And you arched your back as your vibrator pressed against your pretty little cunt. You wailed into your arm. I watched your calves twitch while you came. It was a sight I’ll never forget.”

“This isn’t possible,” she whispers.

“No arm for you to wail into now, is there? They’re all tied up.” He pauses. “For me to do what I want with.”

“Let me  _ go _ ,” Rey demands.

“I’d be happy to oblige, if you give me what I’m so reasonably requesting.” He’s touching her left tit, clenching her nipple into a tight point over the fabric, so that it stands taut against the sunflower pattern. She thrashes her chest. “But maybe you  _ want _ this, Rey. Maybe this is what you crave in your bed… someone to take the choice away. Someone to  _ force _ it on you.”

“No.”  _ No, no, no. _

“No?” His thumb moves to her other breast. “Are you sure?” Her body betrays her, forces her to squirm under his ministrations. “If you don’t want this, why not give me the code you stole?”

“You  _ know why _ , B--” She cuts herself off; what was it Leia had said, all those months ago?  _ Ben is who he used to be, Rey _ , she recalls vaguely,  _ and if it ever comes to it, don’t remind him. _

“Were you about to call me by my old name?” he asks, head cocked, hand blessedly retreating. “I will  _ not  _ be referred to as Ben Solo anymore.”

It happens so fast, a blur of movement, and her chest is being straddled by two thick thighs, silken trousers brushing against her shoulders, a bulge at his crotch looming over her face. He cradles it, pulls her hair tight to force her to look at him.

“Ben Solo is dead,” he says, a picture of calm, unzipping his pants. “I’ll show you.”

His bare dick rests against her cheek; wet precum smears on her chin, and she wrenches her head out of his grasp, reels it to the side with a gasp. She hears him huff before his weight lifts off slightly, just enough for him to rub his balls down her forehead, over her nose, halting at her lips sealed tightly shut.

“No biting, sweetheart,” he says. “Just be a good girl. I won’t hurt you.”

Her supply of air cuts off when he pinches her nostrils shut; she fights as long as she can, attempting to pull her lips thinly apart for a breath, but it’s enough. He hooks a thumb in her mouth, wrenches it open, drags his testicles to her tongue.

A breath hisses out of him.

“Perfect,” he whispers. “Take more of it, I know you can.”

The hard head of his cock breeches her lips, sliding deeper than she knew possible, until she’s gagging around it. He smells like clean soap, the soft thatch of hair at the base still damp, somehow making the entire situation worse. Like he’d known exactly how long she’d be passed out for. Like he’d known this was always how it was going to go.

If it weren’t for his fingers prying her mouth open, she’d be chomping down on it, instinct and fury working in tandem.

As it is, her neck is pinned up, and her mouth is at his unrequited mercy, and it’s the last dire situation she anticipated finding herself in.

He’s fucking her mouth with inelegant thrusts, grunting, tightening his hold in her hair. Spit dribbles out of her mouth, soaking his hand against her cheek. In and out of her throat it goes, spasming around him. She fights against the restraints harder, panicked.

“My messy girl,” he says in acknowledgment, sliding himself away with a lewd pop. “Did that taste like Ben Solo’s cock, Rey?”

She can only stare on, eyes wide and shocked, panting.

“Cat got your tongue?” He leans back, palms himself over her chest, pulling something out of his pocket with his free hand. “I’m sure we can find a way to get you talking.”

A knife slices through the straps of her dress. She gasps a feeble protest as he folds the fabric down over her chest, and watches the way his face lights up when the tight points of her nipples stand up towards him.

“No bra?” he asks. “An interesting choice.”

He plucks her with rough strokes, rubbing each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers like she’s a guitar.

“Stop, stop,  _ stop _ ,” she yells. “Get  _ off!” _

Eyes shut tight, she wriggles beneath him again, ignoring the shift of his body across hers. Lips brush against her breast. He licks a wet path from the base of her chest to the fleshiest side, groaning loudly.

He sucks her skin hard.

It burns when he pulls back.

He soothes it with his tongue.

“You know what I think, Rey?” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I think that, deep down, you want this. That you have for a long time, now. That you’ve been lonely for so long, unsatisfied by your various trysts, left wanting  _ more _ .” He pulls a nipple between his teeth and smacks his lips together with an obnoxious slurp. “I think, if you didn’t want me to touch you, that you would have given me the code you stole at the beginning of this mess. And I think it makes you feel better, to fight against this, to pretend you don’t want my mouth on your cunt, my fingers buried inside of you.” 

His fingers trace circles over her panties, hand spanning her legs, tickling the cleft of her thighs. She twitches involuntarily, uttering a whimper, while he slides underneath the cotton.

“I’ve wondered what you taste like,” he says. “Since the first time I noticed you, at that coffee shop on 4th? I wondered how long you’d been tracing me, because surely I would’ve seen before, someone as beautiful as you. I don’t know if that was your first time following me, but I’ve wanted to taste you since.” He outlines the pad of a finger along her folds, gathering beads of moisture, rubbing into her clit with a soft touch before bringing it to his lips with a smack. “Have you questioned yourself yet? Have you decided to be honest, admit how much you want this? Or do you want to give me that code, afterall?”

And Rey…  _ can’t _ give him the code.

She just can’t.

So she takes what he thrusts upon her in dignified silence.

“So quiet now, baby?” The gusset of her panties is pulled tight into her lips by his unforgiving hands. “We’ll make you talk, one way or another.”

She kicks her legs away from him as he changes position, moving down the bed. He catches one calf and pins it down, but doesn’t dodge the other one in time; her foot smacks against his chin with a loud pop, and he grunts, hand flying to massage the ache away.

She smiles.

He growls.

And then she’s folded in half, fingers digging painfully in the soft flesh of her thighs, knees shoved so quickly against her chest that her breath catches.

The sounds of his spankings are sharp. Rey clenches her eyes shut, lurching away from the burn of it all, but his arm is firmly pinning her down, and his hand happily follows the centimeters of leeway she manages to find. 

When she musters up the bravery to look down once more, he’s repositioned himself on his knees, face level with her cunt, before he bites into one the cheeks of her ass. She clenches her teeth, holds back the tears welling in her eyes, and she’s about to give up, offer all of the sounds of her begging, when he releases his hold.

The sense of relief she feels is palpable--

Until he pulls her underwear to the side as far as the elastic will allow, and his tongue runs its way through her pussy.

He’s not holding back.

The entire situation she finds herself in is not one she particularly wants; not one she hoped to discover; the most dreadful she prepared herself for.

And the worst part of it is just that--

He’s so  _ fucking messy _ .

He pulls the folds of her labia apart with his entire face, shaking his head like a dog after a bath. His tongue dips in and out of her with precision, she sees his nose glisten with her slick, he moves his lips like he might eat an ice cream cone: devouring it whole, letting her tang seep along his taste buds.

It’s clearly intended to humiliate, prove that he’s  _ there _ , that he’ll take whatever he wants with no regard for her.

She wishes she weren’t squirming against him so desperately. Her hips grind in little circles, and whether it’s a movement of protest or an unconscious acceptance of what’s happening, of what’s to come, she has no idea. She just doesn’t want to be doing it at all.

His eyes flash at her, chin resting over her clit, a grin on his face.

“Tastes just like my dreams,” he admits before holding her gaze and lapping a big stripe at her clit.

Rey jolts.

Ben-- _ Kylo _ \--laughs.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He flicks his tongue back and forth. She feels something building inside of her, a warmth tingling her bones. Her calves twitch against his hold, feet wiggling, toes curled. It’s about to burst, and it pains her to want to chase it, but she does. She’s flying, is going to soar, but--his mouth pops off of her. “Enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

A dry sob heaves out of her unwilling throat.

He tuts, let’s her legs fall limply back to the bed, slides up to mouth at her tits again.

“I’ll let you come,” he offers. “I’ll let you come as many times as you want. I just need the code, Rey.”

She glares, eyes as hard as she can make them, lips rolled into her mouth.

“Or maybe we should make you come  _ too many  _ times?” His eyebrows knit together, as though truly pondering the circumstances, as though confounded by the fork in the road: do they go down Cum-a-Lot Lane, or up through Edge-of-the-World Boulevard? “Maybe we should make your clit go  _ numb _ from orgasms. I wonder, would forcing pleasure upon you, making your body betray you over and over again, be the more strategic move?”

These monologues are exhausting enough. How many disgusting words and depraved thoughts are trapped in his head? Has he spent days, weeks, months thinking about this moment? Did he script it out?

Is it better or worse, thinking that maybe this had been planned all along?

“How about this?” he asks, cupping her face with one hand, circling her cunt with the other. “We’ll start you off with one. I’m not a cruel man, I want to see you enjoy all of this.” The pad of his thumb rubs into her, and she whimpers against her will. 

“ _ That’s it, baby. _ And after you come all over my fingers, we’ll get you up to the brink again--and if you talk, I’ll reward you, and if you don’t…”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” she mutters, voice pitched so high she barely even recognizes it. She’s coiled like a spring, a Jack in the Box ready to pop. He dips a finger inside of her, pumps it in and out with careful consideration for her clit. 

She’s slick-- _ for him _ \--and the sounds coming from his finger fucking are embarrassing, and loud, and they’re making him groan in her ear dirty nothings, like he’s just a loving boyfriend, and they’re only exploring a mutual kink.

“You’re so good for me,” he coos, holding her forehead to his. “I feel you clenching around me, so tight and soft and  _ warm _ . Your body is begging for my fat cock to fuck you. Are you about to come for me, Rey?”

She explodes on him, a loud hum vibrating past her throat, the only sound she’ll give him the satisfaction of drawing out. Her orgasm is one she’s never experienced before: all-consuming, a pleasure rooted deep in her veins, an uncontrollable trembling of her entire body. He controls her so wholly and completely as her limbs sink into the mattress, sated and still and unable to muster up the energy to fight anymore.

Her eyes are shut as tight as she can get them, terrified to look at the face of the man licking the shell of her ear.

“Was that good?” he asks. “It must have been, look at how soaked the comforter is underneath you. You want a taste?”

He shoves two of his wet fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, gagging her with a little chuckle. His refusal to withdraw them, no matter how hard she bites down on him, defeats her will to stay in the dark underneath her eyelids.

“Do you like it, Rey? You’re sweet, and sour, and it’s  _ glorious _ . Don’t you see?”

When her lashes flutter open, Kylo slides his fingers away and meets her gaze.

He’s grinning, wide and uninhibited.

“You taste like something I need to survive,” he says as he nuzzles her cheek with his nose. “As significant to my daily caloric intake as vitamin D, or caffeine. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to stop, now that I’ve had a sample.” He pauses and runs a hand over the plane of her stomach, dragging her dress up. “I suppose I could force myself to give you up if there were some kind of incentive you could offer me.”

“I’m--” She’s having trouble catching her breath, putting her thoughts together in a logical way.

“That’s okay, baby,” he interrupts. “I can live without the code for a little while longer. I think I promised some other punishments. Maybe we should focus on those. Until you can collect yourself.”

He presses a thumb against her clit again, rubbing tight circles around her, shifting his weight against her thighs so she can’t squirm away.

She’s sensitive, and overstimulated, and the way he’s dripping her come on her tits just to lean over and suck it all off is just--

_ Too much. _

It’s like a dam breaks, the Great Molasses Flood of Boston, seeping sticky, sweet waves of weight on her, in her. She’s tingling, and on the edge of something as life altering as her first orgasm, and he keeps letting his hand retreat just when she’s about to burst.

So she does it.

She begs.

“Please,” she pleads, eyes wet, voice shaking. “Please, please, Be--Ky--just, please let me, I  _ need to--” _

“Need to?” he asks, voice slick and charming and willfully ignorant of her hips lifted high off the bed. “What is it you need to do, Rey?”

“I--please, let me come,  _ fuck, please, I’m begging you, just let me--” _

His thumb goes still against her clit. He smiles, wide, uninhibited, disgustingly satisfied.

“My good girl wants to come all over my fingers again? You’re  _ insatiable _ . I thought you’d at least hold out for my mouth. We’ve only just begun, Rey, and you’re already begging?”

She feels her cheeks heat up in shame, that brink of an orgasm drying up like rain on sunlit pavement. He sits up, straddles her hips, cock still jutting out of his slacks, shirt rumpled and wrinkled against his chest. He wraps a hand around himself, gives three slow pumps, holds her gaze as he pulls out his phone.

“What are you--”

“Shh.” The phone is up to his ear, a finger on her lips to shush. “Yes, this is Kylo Ren, just confirming my reservation for tonight.”

Her eyes are wide as she stares. His head is tilted and his hand wraps itself around her neck, pressing down on her windpipe with the barest amount of pressure while he waits for the other participant on the phone, unaware of his current debauched circumstance, to respond affirmatively.

He hangs up after offering a curt thanks, and releases a drawn out grown, sliding his hand up and down his cock in earnest.

“I have dinner reservations tonight,” he says through clenched teeth. She watches his fingers tighten as he picks up the pace. “So I’m going to come on your pretty little tits right now, and leave you wanting like the dirty, thieving scavenger you are.”

“No--”

“You’re going to lap my come up and enjoy it like it’s your last meal.” His voice is huskier, somehow, deeper, breathy, like he’s just holding on by a thread. “And when I get back, if you’ve been a good girl, lying here on my bed, I’ll give you the honor of orgasming on my tongue, and then on my cock.”

“I can’t--no,  _ fuck _ \--”

He splatters her like a Picasso, his aim intentionally poor as it paints each nipple, soars to her cheek, drips just underneath her eye. The sound that comes out of him--it’s animalistic at best, the roar of a lion celebrating the capture of a feast. He coats her lips in it, smacking her mouth with the wet tip of his dick, pinning her head still with one hand buried in her hair.

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he says, tucking himself into his pants while she sputters and pulls against the ropes again.

And when she's managed to wipe what she can on her arm, when she's whipping her gaze around the room, cold and strung up and unable to move, he’s long gone.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you enjoy your dinner?” he asks. “I have to wonder, because I see it all dried up on your face, on your tight nipples. What a shame that my girl is an ungrateful brat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: legit noncon
> 
> heed the tags please!!
> 
> im sorry i genuinely don't know what this is, it took me a month to write and it's mostly word vomit but what can u do the reylo gods make u write what they want u to write
> 
> find me on twitter @reylobaelo :)

The time ticks by lazily, the way the sun passes over a lake. Her arms are still tied over her head, knots showing no signs of budging. They ache at the shoulders.

His come has long dried on her chest. The drop under her eye moved like a dollop of paint on a wall, slowing to an itchy stop at the corner of her lip. She keeps them shut, desperate not to taste him. Her nipples are drawn into taught buds on her chest, the air from the ceiling fan drawing chilled shivers up her spine.

Rey is left alone with nothing but her thoughts.

It is a miserable punishment. The worst he could have offered her.

Her thoughts are the very last thing she wants to be stuck with.

In her thoughts, she’s haunted by the memories of her circumstances: following him in a trench coat on the street, ordering a chai latte five minutes before he entered the same coffee shop, waltzing past his apartment building to observe whether his lights were on or off.

_ We just need to catch him in the act, _ Leia’s voice sounds in her head.  _ Just need to capture a shot of a meeting with Snoke. Bug his computer to see his emails, anything. _

She’d instructed Rey to do  _ anything _ .

Allowing herself to be tied to a bed, naked under his body, at the mercy of his tongue… well, she rather doubts that Leia really intended that this fall under the  _ anything _ category.

And then there’s the issue of Rey’s clit.

It’s throbbing, desperate for release. She’s never been this pent up before, this frenzied for attention. Rubbing her thighs together only makes it worse, the unsatisfying pinch of skin, the barely-there friction.

When he first left, frustrated tears had welled up in her eyes, and she’d held her breath until the urge to sob passed.

Now that impulse is long gone, replaced with her body’s palpable demand for an orgasm; maybe five, if her captor feels so generous upon his return.

That’s her only hope, at this point. That he actually  _ does _ return at all, that his desire for her overwhelms his mission for the code she stole, that he wastes no time in filling her with his cock, a thumb pressed against her clit, mouthing dirty sentences in her ear until she can stand it no more.

It’s a reality that disgusts her, and it’s the very thing she  _ knows _ he wanted. He’d said as much, hadn’t he, with a low threat _ : Would forcing pleasure upon you, making your body betray you over and over again, be the more strategic move _ ?

At this point, it’s a wonder she can think at all. She feels strung up, a prisoner in solitary confinement, awaiting her execution.

And her executioner awaits, the sound of a door unlocking echoing through the space, his footsteps clacking against the floor.

He walks in with his suit slung over his shoulder.

Apart from his eyes, glowing and wide at the sight of her, his expression reveals nothing.

It’s uncomfortably silent in the room. He stares on, and she holds herself still, glares right back at him in an effort to prove that she’s unafraid. The goosebumps lining her arms are easily blamed on the chill in the air, though the way her heart is pounding against her chest may indicate more emotional turmoil than she wants to reveal.

And how can it not?

She’s just grateful he’s across the way, a handful of his large footsteps from the bed.

The floor creaks under his tread as he moves towards her, slow and steady. His gaze drips down her body and back up to meet her own. A smirk plays on his lips.

It’s a game of cat and mouse, she thinks. But the mouse has been captured, and the cat is ready for his meal. That’s how he’s looking at her, like he’s prepared to devour, bones and all, leaving nothing but a warmth and Rey-sized divot in the bed.

It’s like he expects  _ her _ to break the silence, the way his head is tilted in her direction.

It’s like she  _ wants _ to break it, just to end this agony.

But she holds on for dear life, lips still rolled into her mouth, until his knees hit the foot of the mattress.

“Did you enjoy your dinner?” he asks. “I have to wonder, because I see it all dried up on your face, on your tight nipples. What a shame that my girl is an ungrateful brat.”

He sits down and pinches one of her nipples with his thumb and forefinger, pulling it with a fascinated expression on his face. Rey wills herself to stay still, to stay  _ strong _ , but he’s watching with unprecedented interest, prodding her to the brink, and--

She squirms.

Just a little. Hardly at all, really. A little tilt of her hips, the clenching of her toes.

But it’s enough.

“I think you were asking me for something before I left,” he says, releasing her and lowering his mouth to her navel. “Do you want to ask again? If you can be polite, I might just give it to you.”

The time without him has given her a chance to reset and recenter herself. Though her clit throbs between her legs and her tits ache with a desperate need for attention, she’s just able to resist him, even as his tongue traces its way down the plane of her stomach. He flicks it against her pelvis, laps up her slick with deep strokes around the crease of her thighs.

“I met with my mother tonight.” He volunteers the information like a weatherman might announce a heavy rainfall. Rey feels her body tense as his hands wrench her legs open wide. He gives chaste kisses to her folds. “I told her I had you--” He flicks at her clit, makes her entire body jolt and arch up. “--and do you want to know what she told me?”

“No,” she says, teeth clenched, hands in fists.

“Are you sure, Rey?” He sucks her clit and she whimpers under him. “She told me to keep you.”

There’s an awareness swimming along her consciousness that tells her he’s just looking for any kind of reaction, that he’s lying, that he knows how to get under her skin, both literally and figuratively.

It’s poetic, in a way.

But then his hands move, grip her hips tight, and  _ rotate _ , turning her body around with him. Her wrists ache with the change in position, and she realizes with belated panic that he’s trying to get her lying on her stomach. Something breaks inside of her.

She starts flailing again. Her limbs have minds of their own, adrenaline pumping. The muscles of her thighs clench and release against her captor. Her arms wrench against their restraints.

And she hears him chuckle above her.

The  _ audacity _ of him, to laugh as she struggles.

His fingers dig tight indents in her waist, and his legs wrap themselves around her own, and he finishes what he started: she finds herself buried face-down on the comforter, head shoved into a pillow.

He takes advantage of the brief moment of stillness, running his palms down her back, stroking her, hiking a leg up to brush at her pussy. A finger dips inside. She sinks down into the mattress, feels her cheeks burning up when she lets out an involuntary gasp.

“You like being pinned under me?” he asks. Always with the rhetorical questions. “Have you ever been played with here?” His thumb rides up, presses against her ass.

“N-no,” she says with a hiccup. “Please, pl-please don’t, not--not that--”

“You’ll like it,” he insists. “I’ll make you like it. Not now, not right this minute, but… you’ll ask for it, Rey.”

He puts a little more pressure against her, the tip of his thumb impacting her, and she cries out into her pillow, helpless, before it lifts off, back to her clit.

She moves along with him, total cooperation coursing through her. He strokes her with firm little circles, his body lying on hers. She tilts her hips up, humps the air and meets his groin, hard and hot on her.

He groans in her ear, nips his teeth along the back of her neck.

“I love the way you taste,” he whispers a millionth time. “I love the sounds you make when I touch you, so desperate for release, too stubborn to ask for it. I love taking what I want. I love giving you what you  _ need _ .”

She’s on the precipice of another one, something transcendent, and he senses it as she clenches, removing his hand, stroking her slick along her spine just to lick it up.

“I love that you thought  _ you  _ were following  _ me _ , that you could best me at my own game, Rey. And I love that you’re here, in this bed that I paid for with my  _ dirty money _ , while you and your high horse both drown in what I deem you worthy of.”

He breathes heavy in her ear.

“And do you want to know what I think?” he asks, sucking an earlobe, waiting for her groan to sound in the air. “I think you love it, too.”

She clenches her teeth, sucks in a deep breath, recenters herself again. The word comes out in a prideful tone: “No.”

“No?”

“You want me to love it. You  _ want _ to believe that you know me, but deep down, you know your stalking means nothing, in the long run. This… whatever your goal is here, it’s not going to work. I know what you fear. 

"You--you’re afraid that you’ll never be as strong as  _ Darth Vader.” _

He freezes above her, hand placed on the back of her head, stilling her into the pillow. The words came out muffled, but he's clearly heard loud and clear; she feels his fingers tighten in her hair, his breath shaking against her cheek.

The slap against her ass comes as a shock--a whoosh of cold hair, and the harsh sound of skin-on-skin. She can’t help the gasp of surprise that escapes her, but when he comes for her again, his fingers alternating between cheeks, grasping her skin in big handfuls and releasing just to send his hand back down, she manages to keep a stoic silence.

“I don’t know,” he says between spanks, “where you got this idea from. I would tolerate a lot from you, Rey, but blatant lies? They cannot go unpunished, sweetheart.”

His thumb runs up her cunt and towards her ass, plugging the hole up with his tip, wringing a cry from her lips. It disappears in an instant. She hears him sucking his finger before returning, rubbing against her, moaning at whatever he feels.

“Gotta--” he pants, pausing, gripping her hips. He can’t seem to decide where he wants to touch her; his cock presses, insistent, on her thigh, fully clothed. It’s clear what’s looming.

He shifts downward, pinning her body down with his hands on her ass, spreading her wide open. Pushing her to her knees, he licks a stripe from her clit to her asshole, exaggerating his slurping sounds, sending shivers down her spine.

She works her hips against his grip, but something shifts in the beats of his tongue and the way she tries to escape. His thumb, lubed up with his spit and her slick, slides easily inside of her, replacing his mouth. His lips close around her clit, and his hand shifts to her abdomen, holding her up with an ease she didn’t know possible.

And suddenly, she’s  _ working with him. _

She’s chasing it, and he’s giving it everything he’s got, a smile curving on her pussy. The smallest of whimpers comes from her mouth. The shock of this awe-inducing pleasure, this… this foreign feeling of ecstasy… she can’t breathe from how much she wants it.  _ Needs  _ it.

“You just need to ask, Rey,” he murmurs, lifting his head up to smirk at her. “You managed to do it earlier, before I left. All you need to do is  _ beg. _ ”

His head dips back down. She’s keening around him, legs pulsing and shaking against his hands as they hold her open.

Something breaks, and--it all pours out in desperation: “Please,” she hiccups, “please, I--I really want-- _ need to come, _ just please let me, please, I’m begging you, please--”

Mouth wrapped around her clit, tongue running up and down in short, little flickers, she comes silently on his lips. Her body quivers and collapses, all energy sapped, like she’d been the one doing all the work. She’s still filled with his fingers, his tongue lapping up the crease of her thighs, the curve of her ass, the folds of her cunt.

“Such a good girl.” He lifts himself up, adjusts his body so he’s on his side, curling up into her. “Coming for me like that, asking me for what you need. You’re an obedient little thing when I make you one, hm?”

Rey groans into her pillow, quiet, mortified,  _ sated _ .

“I think I’ve gotten distracted though,” he says in that sickly sweet voice. “The code, sweetheart, I’m afraid I still need it. And now you’ll give it to me.”

The laugh she makes shocks even her; she jumps at the sound, like she’s watching herself from above. She can’t see his face, refuses to look up from her dark cushion, but can imagine the expression gracing his lips, softened to a close-mouthed grin, can trace out the lines of his cheeks, the arch of his brows, the explosion of his pupils, contributing to nearly black irises.

It hits her like a ton of bricks, how intimately she’s known him these last months, following his routine, day in and day out. The documents she’s snapped pictures of, the schedules she’s hacked, the vague relationships she’s forged with his lesser coworkers.

It’s all culminated to this moment, and she wonders if maybe this was inevitable all along.

She wonders if maybe this had been what she was hoping for, from that first day, when Leia showed her his picture.

His hand traces down her spine, and he seems satisfied to be just like that, almost completely still, silent apart from their deep breaths, his clothed body cocooning her own, goosebumps and all. It’s like he knows what she’s thinking, that she’s recalling the days and weeks past; that she’s remembering the night he’d detailed earlier, when she’d taken a photo of him at a gala in his dark blue suit, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 

That she’d been unable to contain herself, approaching him at the bar and ordering a white wine just to get a closer glimpse. 

That, when she’d gotten home hours later, she’d hiked her dress up to her waist and rubbed on her clit a vibrator at its highest setting, reaching an orgasm that was not enough, _ never enough _ .

And he’d watched her the whole time, how, she had no idea, but he  _ had _ , and the knowledge of that…

She wonders… if maybe, _ just maybe _ , this wasn’t such a scary reality to her.

It’s sensitive, where he’s touching her, the button of her clit. Her body jolts against her will as his fingers stroke lazily, legs shaking, chest heaving from exertion. He stuffs her full of two long digits, up to the knuckle. If she weren’t feeling it against her thigh under his pants, she’d believe it was his dick inside of her--the way he’s stretching her, scissoring his fingers, thumbing at her clit, it’s not as big a leap as she thought.

“Come for me again,” he murmurs and licks her neck. She shudders against him, and he grounds his hand against her, and it comes as a complete surprise, the way her body pulses around him, shakes and quakes at his ministrations. “ _Again_.”

His thumb is unrelenting, even as she tries to close her thighs up, scrabbling at the sheets, bucking her hips. He takes his time, builds her up again, knocks her down like a tower of blocks.

She gasps.

“Want you to come on my cock, Rey.” His weight lifts off and he flips her back over, and she stares on, lifting her neck, arms on either side of her head, watching while he unbuttons his shirt one by one, lets loose the belt around his waist, toes off his dress shoes.

His cock--that’s all she can see now, is his  _ fucking cock _ \--stands proudly at attention, dark and curved and smooth against his pale skin. His hand is wrapped around his, barely, pulling once, twice, three times, before he pads to the bed and kneels.

When he’d forced it in her mouth earlier in the evening, she hadn’t gotten a very good look at it, but afterwards, when she was laying on the bed, alone and cold and desperate for an orgasm, she’d felt an ache in her jaw that, against her better judgement, she would describe as almost  _ pleasant _ .

But now, it’s here in front of her, nothing shielding any of it from view, and it’s utterly terrifying to imagine that he’s going to…  _ fuck her _ with this monstrosity.

It must show on her face, because he regards her with smug eyes and a twitching tight-lipped smile when he says, “Don’t be frightened, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

It hits her all at once, the fact that he’s about to fuck her, that he’s going to put his penis inside of her vagina, that she’s naked and he’s just as naked now and that their nakedness equates to one fuckening that she  _ definitely _ did not sign up for.

“I thought about making you suck me off again,” he admits while he strokes himself, slow and steady. “But I don’t think I can wait to feel your tight little pussy around me.”

Both of his hands wrap around her thighs, lift her legs up and open wide. He leans down on his knees and licks a long stripe from hole to hole, flicks against her clit, before sitting up and looking down at her.

He collects her ankles in one hand and breeches her all at once.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and  _ fuck _ , she’s thinking the same thing. “Just the tip, baby, just a little bit, at first.

And this is  _ just the tip _ ?

He rocks on his thighs, pops his cock out and puts it back in like it’s a game, a breathy, awed chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re so tight, Rey. So tight, so good. Dreamed about this for ages and look at you, your cunt swallowing my head like it’s always been meant to. Do you want more? I’ll give you more, I’ll give it all to you.”

He sheathes himself in all at once, hugging her legs to his chest. His hair flops down from its careful coif, curling against his brow. He looks deranged, eyes blown wide, breaths heavy, like he can hardly contain himself. His hips move in careful waves, bringing himself nearly out of her completely, slamming back in with low, long groans.

Her eyes roll into the back of his head as he settles into a rhythm, fast, unrelenting. He’s hitting something inside of her that she never knew even existed, something warm and fuzzy and unerringly familiar, like finding your favorite sweater after a long summer season. 

Dormant, ancient, mythical.

“You feel it too, Rey? I think you do, clenching around me like this. You were made for this, made for  _ my cock _ , no one else’s, weren’t you?”

He lets her legs go and they fall around his hips.

“Just admit it, Rey,” he says, leaning down. “Admit that you love this, admit that you want it. I’ll give you  _ everything. _ ”

She stares at him, taking in his eyes, nearly black from his blown pupils, his lips, plump and red, his hair, sweaty and unkempt. It’s a side to him she’s never seen, not once in the last months she’s followed him.

She wonders what she must look like, debauched, naked, covered in his come.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, pressing two puckered lips against her collar. His voice drops to a hoarse whisper. “Please, Rey.”

It all happens at one, at her body’s own volition: her legs wrap themselves around his legs, feet hooking on each other, and a moan, loud and proud, erupts from her throat. 

“I--” she pauses, and he stills, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. “I… want this. Please. Give it all to me.”

“Fuck,” he bites out. His hips piston against hers, hands cupping her ass, opening her up. “Fuck the code, fuck Leia, fuck Snoke. You’re  _ everything _ . Fucking  _ everything,  _ Rey.”

She’s never heard words like this directed towards her before. It’s awakening that thing inside of her even more, curling her toes, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. It’s tight and coiled, ready to spring, and it just needs--

His thumb in its rightful place, circling her clit.

It takes over her entire body, an alien host. She trembles around him, and clenches his cock with a force she didn’t know existed.

She  _ screams _ .

It must last minutes, hours, maybe days.

It doesn’t really matter, not in the long run.

He’s kissing her, lips on lips, tongues sparring. It’s all-encompassing, this feeling of finding the missing piece of a puzzle. She’s in awe, that this could have been her reality all along, that sex, that kissing, that orgasms could feel like this.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers when he breaks from her mouth. “Coming on my cock, showing me all the power you’ve hidden for so long. So sexy, so good for me. Going to--going to come inside of you, show you what you need.”

All she can do is nod and moan and grip him harder with her legs.

His beat stutters, she feels his dick flex inside of her, twitching against his walls. He’s whispering nonsense, uttering a mantra of  _ my good girl _ as he comes and comes and  _ comes _ .

He pulls out with a little pop of suction.

Rey looks on at him. Observes his heavy breaths, lets her eyes dip down to his groin, where a sticky rope of come still connects them.

She thinks he’s beautiful.

She thinks,  _ fuck the code _ .

  
She thinks she  _ is  _ a good girl, afterall. 


End file.
